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I'm kind of obsessed with designer shoes. Not really because of the name, but because of the uniqueness of the shoes, and I guess kind of because of the name.

Really the whole issue about shoes, or clothes in general, center around the fact that I'm snob. I like having things other people don't have and/or want. Yes, it's shallow, but I'm OK with that. I'm working on embracing my flaws, so let's roll with this.

I loathe the idea of people buying the same shoes as me and making them look dumb. That's the worst, when you see someone wearing something amazing and they made it look like shit because they have the fashion sense of a goat.

Instead I would rather people marvel at my ability to look like a total cartoon (in a good way) and be envious of me instead of trying to replicate, and ruin, a good look.

You'd think with all my self-centered-ness and hatred of people having the same things as me I'd sew, design clothes, or something, but as far a…

For those of you who know me personally, read the blog regularly, or can read into my nervous breakdowns, I was recently planning a wedding. Actually it was my wedding. So now I'm married and am a Mrs., which really only makes me feel older.

Aside from the new titles, there was also the wedding, which was a giant party, complete with beautiful shoes on me and all of my amazing bridesmaids. They all got to choose their own black shoes and all picked something different and beautiful.

I'm sure there are going to be plenty of pictures of everyone's shoes, but it was my last minute glitter find at Baker's that has already been captured on film (thanks to my amazing photographer).

Five inch heels made it so I didn't have to get my dress hemmed. They also made my feet hurt by the end of a long, whirlwind day. Running around, walking, taking photos, dancing, and everything else that goes along with a wedding. All in 5 towering inches of multi-colore…

We didn't do the stripper thing, and given that I spent most of my 20s in bars living life like a movie, there really weren't any more oats that needed sowing. Instead the bridesmaids and I got dolled up, went to dinner, saw a drag show and danced the night away, working on hangovers to rival that of my 20s.

Prior to all that though there were days of texts, phone calls and picture messages all concerning one thing: what to wear.

The only rules were to be as freaky or flashy as you want to be, and no one disappointed. Everyone wore sequins, big earrings, and even my heel adverse sister was rocking a pair of black pumps with her sparkly top.

I, on the other hand, turned a five minute walk to the restaurant into 15 minutes and for some reason thought it would be a good idea to wear five in stilettos with a giant platform. Paired with a sequin skirt, black bustier style top and the longest black feather boa …

Sometimes the best thing about writing a blog is being able to look at the web analytics. It's kind of like spying on your readers.

I can tell what country traffic is coming from outside my native U.S. (love you South Africa), how long people spend reading (average 5 minutes), the most popular posts, and my personal favorite, the search terms that get me found.

Sure, there are the regular ones like designer names, "high heels," "leopard print heels," and so on. This week brought me the new weird one though.

"Heels made of cat."

"Bullshit, that doesn't work," I'm thinking. Not to mention the wondering of why anyone would ever look for heels made from cats, or any kind of shoe for that matter. So I go to Google, and search, and sure enough, there it is. Right underneath some ugly wooden shoe with "CAT" in the style name, a story on cat surgery, and some defunct brand of shoes called "Cat's Paw Heels."